


Stockholm

by aghastlyy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheating, Cheesy, Endgame Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, slight stockholm syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 01:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2754254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghastlyy/pseuds/aghastlyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, they didn't fall in love with their captors. But they fell in love with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revised version of a previously posted fic on another site. It's edited to include smut and to flesh out the story a bit more.  
> Perrie is in this for maybe one chapter, although she's mentioned and referenced throughout.
> 
> (Also, just a side note, the beginning is kind of shitty because it's all the original version, completely unrevised, but the rest is better. You know, hopefully.)

**Sometimes the most epic loves of all time begin in a place of fear and danger. This is one of those times.**

 

**  
**It was a rainy Sunday in London when they realized things were changing. There was a shift in the crowd outside their hotel, and sure, that was normal. They didn't mind the grabby hands on their coats. In fact, they'd become somewhat used to the way the various sizes of hands clawed their fingers across their stomachs desperately. They'd learned to wear clothes that weren't so easy to get a hold on, especially on these days when they had to shuffle through crowds, resisting the urge to elbow and shove their ways to the other end.

And when they collapsed into the car, and it smelt a bit more like smoke and less like air fresheners and energy drinks, they might've been surprised, but didn't think much of it. Maybe somebody forgot to roll down a window-- that happened sometimes. But, when Niall went to shut the door behind him, and instead a tall man with thin limbs and a beer belly shut it forcefully before he could even reach the handle-- yeah, that was weird. Maybe Harry glanced fearfully at Liam, because Liam was the kind of person you could share your irrational fears with, and expect a serious and thoughtful response.

"Um," Louis had questioned, sounding already impatient. "Are we going to drive or what?"

The man in the driver's seat simply cleared his throat, adjusting his shades on his nose. He glanced at the boys in his rear view mirror, expression blank and impossible to read. It made Liam's skin crawl, the way the air seemed to shift as the man with the beer belly entered the passenger's seat and promptly locked the doors after him. He didn't even bother with his seat belt before he gave a curt nod, sending them off at an alarming speed.

Niall cleared his throat. "Uh, actually, I think the venue is east from here."

No reply.

Harry tried next, sparing Liam a wary glance. "Excuse me, I thought Angela and Patty were driving us today?"

The men shifted in their seats, but still did not reply.

Obviously uncomfortable, Louis reached forward to turn on the radio, but the man in the passenger seat swatted his hand away with a slap that sounded genuinely painful. Louis hissed, but didn't spare any words for the man, obviously aware of something the other boys hadn't yet put together.

Zayn could feel it too, Liam noticed, noting the way his shoulders were tensed up, arms crossed as he looked out the window apprehensively. Liam's first instinct was take out his phone and check for a text from Angela or Patty about the change of plans-- but  _oh_ that was weird. Liam's phone wouldn't even turn on. Wordlessly, he reached into Harry's pocket and pulled out his phone. Although Harry eyed him curiously, he barely reacted to Liam's hand being so close to his crotch.

As Liam feared, Harry's phone also wouldn't turn on. A lump formed in his throat, his stomach dropping with what he thought must've been an audible thud. Harry noticed Liam's reaction and reached slowly to his left, to unlock his door. The lock wouldn't even budge, so Harry rubbed his palms across his jeans and then folded his hands in his lap, looking desperately at Liam, as if to ask,  _what now?_

"I have to use the toilet," Niall said, less keen on staying calm. He seemed to just choke out the words, as though he was about ready to chunder all over Louis and Zayn, who moved away, as though they could sense the sick rising in his throat.

Again, no response from the men. Louis, apparently unable to take it anymore, reached over and tugged senselessly at his door as the car rumbled towards the highway. Liam felt his breath becoming shallow, unsure of what to do next. What was he supposed to even say or do in this situation?

Louis next attempted to roll down his window, but those too were locked, and in frustration he began kicking at the back of the passenger's seat. The man occupying it turned around calmly and promptly stuck a needle straight into his leg. Louis hissed and  let out a few rude exclamations, but more rapidly than expected he was drifting into what the boys assumed and hoped was merely a slumber.

The rest of the ride was silent.

 

\--

 

Simply put, it was not what Liam expected. From the movies he'd seen, he was awaiting their arrival at an abandoned warehouse in the bad part of town. Instead, they pulled into the drive of a two-story pastel blue house in the middle of a quaint suburban neighbourhood. He dared himself to be scared of the building as the men climbed out of the car and chatted quietly at the front of the vehicle, during which time Niall squirmed his way into the front seat and opened the door. He made it to the door right next to Zayn and threw it open before the men grabbed him on either side and slammed him against the side of the car, Zayn climbed out, throwing a well-placed kick towards the crotch of one of the men, screaming bloody murder as he ran towards the street, trying to fight off the man's grip. Harry and Liam took the opportunity to climb over the seat and out the door. Harry tossed Louis over his shoulder with only slight difficulty.

Liam busied himself helping Niall defend himself, placing a few hard strikes of the elbow to the man's ribs, commanding Niall to run away, to no avail. The other residents of the neighbourhood were nowhere to be seen. After a pause in the screaming Zayn was doing, Liam realized there was a celebration of some kind going on a few blocks over, which was obviously where everyone was. It was blocking out all the noise they were making, and he realized, glumly, that the fighting was no use. In fact, he let his guard down, in his pondering, allowing the man to grab the back of his head and slam it roughly against the car door. 

He crumpled to the ground instantly, eyes fluttering into blackness, just slow enough that he saw feet coming out of the pastel blue house towards them. As he drifted off, he mumbled a phrase he thought a million times each day (although it was usually laced with a different emotion): "Why me?"

 

\--

 

When he opened them again, he was cold. His jumper, belt, and watch were all gone, leaving him in his cotton t-shirt and slightly baggy trousers. He was placed gently against a damp concrete wall, one window to the outside world just out of reach, too small to crawl through. With any luck, a neighbourhood kid would come along and he'd somehow reach up and ask for help. His instinct was to scream, but he wasn't sure how much help that would be.

"You're awake," an unfamiliar voice said simply. "Saved your dinner for you; slept clear through it."

Liam nodded softly, his gaze catching on the plate of food near the man's feet. He stood, leaning in a dark doorway. Liam figured, judging by the window and the damp concrete, that he was in a basement, perhaps a closet or something. The man in the doorway shrugged a bit and turned, poised to leave.

"Where are the others?" Liam asked, cursing the way his voice creaked and squeaked on its way out.

The man smiled a genuine smile, sad and watery around the edges, and for a moment Liam assumed the apologetic nature of it was because they were hurt, or worse. When the man turned back around to face him, though, arms crossed defensively, Liam realized he was apologizing for the day's events. "They asked the same thing, straight away."

"You knocked them out too?" Liam asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the man, who seemed too human to do this sort of thing to a person. Too human, with his uneven skin and his rather large nose and hands. His shave wasn't even all over, flecked with bits of gray and black like salt and pepper. There was a warmth radiating off of him, and Liam decided he must be somebody's father, with that kind of smile. How could anybody so  _human_ do something like this?

The man hummed in reply. "Sedatives, not a whack on the head. One of them insisted on fixing up that cut you've got when he woke up." Liam's hand flew to the bloodied up cut on his forehead. "Surprised you don't even want to know why you're here." 

Before Liam could correct the man-- he  _did_ want to know; he has priorities is all-- the door was shut, and he was alone again. In fact, the moment he was left alone, all the questions presented themselves, flooding his head and throwing him into an absolute panic. He pulled himself onto his feet unsteadily, dragging his hands across the walls as he paced, struggling to keep upright.

"God," he breathed, "this is all my fault; we're going to die here. I didn't even get to say goodbye to my mum or-- where are... I..." he clutched his chest, feeling the panic escalate until it was too hard to even breathe properly. 

"Liam?" a small voice-- Zayn's voice-- asked. It was muffled, soft, and scared. Less panicked and more terrified. Liam could just see Zayn's face as he continued speaking, "Li, you've got to breathe... it's not your fault. Everyone is going crazy looking for us and you know it. Somebody must've seen something, we were out in the open." Liam felt along the wall until he was crouching just next to where Zayn's voice was coming from.

"You're next door," Liam breathed, feeling a bit of the fear evaporate with every word Zayn spoke. "Thin walls, then."

"Yes," Zayn agreed. And Liam flopped back onto the floor, his back pressed against the wall. "I-- uh, I'm scared too. But I think we'll be okay."

"Yeah?" Liam asked, hands raking gently over his legs, gaze focused on his untouched dinner as he thought about breathing and Zayn's voice.

Zayn took in a loud breath. "Yeah, Li." 

_Yes,_ Liam thought,  _we're scared, and I don't know how to fix it this time._

 

_\--_

 

There was a schedule, Liam realized, when he was awoken in the morning by several pairs of feet thumping down the stairs. He startled awake, hands fisted in his own shirt. He was covered in a thin layer of chilled sweat, and he wasn't sure if it was sweat at all, when he gripped the cold, wet wall and got to his feet. 

He stared at the door, thought about using his dinner plate to try and break the window and  _why hadn't he thought of that sooner?_ The door flew open before he could act on it, though, and the man from last night, with the salt and pepper beard and paternal aura, walked calmly over with a pair of handcuffs ready. 

"Come on, then," he grumbled, in decidedly worse spirits than he had been the previous day. Liam obliged, knowing very well from experience that there was no way he could take on this guy, and even if he could, there was no escape-- especially without the lads. He wasn't sure he could even get himself to leave without them. He turned his back, offering up his wrists to the man, who roughly snapped them into place. 

Liam's curiosity got the best of him and he cleared the sleep from his voice before asking, "What's your name?"

"Jim," the man said, a reluctant edge to his voice, but there was no bite or sarcasm there. Again, Liam noted, it was sympathy.

"I'm Liam," he replied, because it seemed like the right thing to say, even if Jim certainly already knew that. Jim nodded in reply, leading Liam out into the dimly lit hallway-- if it even classified as that. Zayn was already waiting out there, but without handcuffs. He had his arms crossed, leaning against the wall with that moody look of his, complete with a glazed over gaze and two harsh bruises stamped onto his forearms, one the distinct shape of a hand. He looked to Liam with what could only be described as a grimace, mouth twitching like he wanted to say something. 

It was Jim that cut the silence, commanding Liam to keep walking, a rough shove to his shoulders, and they were shuffling along towards a new room straight across from the stairs. He half expected it to be a laundry room or something else domestic like that, but then realized that there was a chance they weren't even  _in_ the pastel blue house. In fact, they could very well be in an abandoned warehouse now, for all any of them knew.

Jim shoved him roughly into one of two unoccupied chairs in the room, and then stood back like the other men did, all with their arms crossed defensively. Zayn was led in next, placed into the last chair, and the door was locked behind them.

Liam took a moment to really take in the scene. Apart from the boys, all hunched over with bruises and a lack of sleep, there was nothing the least bit familiar about the room. He didn't even see the men that had driven them originally, which both worried him and confused him; how many men were in on this? There were at least eight crammed into this little room, including one with an ugly goatee setting up a camera, which was facing the boys, slumping against the backs of their chairs. 

Liam noted that Niall's ankle was handcuffed to his chair and Louis' mouth was taped shut, but otherwise, the boys were just as they'd come, if not with fewer accessories, like Liam was. He missed the stability and maturity the watch made him feel, replaced by the cool discomfort of these handcuffs, forcing him to sit leaning forward slightly.

Harry shifted uncomfortably as the men made sure to move out of the shot. The walls were covered in the same sort of foam Liam often saw in recording studios, and the wall the men had chosen as a backdrop was entirely blank; no windows, no doors, nothing. Liam began to mirror Harry's shifting in his seat, suddenly unable to get his body to keep still. Every instinct in his body was shouting for him to make a mad dash for that door, even if there was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't make it.

He realized, after a moment, that Harry was crying softly. Eyes trained on the floor, but there was no shame in his tears. Hearing the quiet whimpers, Liam felt like crying too. Everything just felt wrong. Surely this was all one big sick joke somebody was playing on them. Perhaps it was Louis taking things to an insane level-- he always did know how to truly test the boundaries. But in his heart, Liam knew this wasn't a dream he was going to snap awake from. And despite the sense of comfort there was in being in the same room with his lads, there was an even more overwhelming sense of claustrophobia making him restless and frustrated straight to his core. He could punch a wall-- he could snap a neck! He was scared, he was worried.

"Proof of life," Jim said quietly, once again cutting the silence. Liam realized he was explaining what they were doing. A man Liam had never seen before instructed them to just sit there and not say anything. They set up the camera, which was connected to a computer, and then they all huddled around a phone set up on a table, talking with somebody on the other end.

"Liam," Zayn whispered, reaching over to touch his shoulder. "We have to do something."

Liam shook his head. "Not you. I'll do something, but none of you lot."

Zayn rolled his eyes, but in the least serious possible way. That was something never ceased to amaze Liam; everything Zayn did was so pure in whatever emotion he felt. Liam could hardly convey his sadness without it seeming goofy, whereas Zayn could smile at you, all loose and watery and you'd just  _know_ he was upset. "Don't be a hero, Liam. We don't need that right now. Teamwork, yeah? We'll make a plan."

Liam tried his best not to raise his voice or let the true worry he was feeling show. "I just don't want any of you to get hurt."

"There's only so many beatings even Superman can take before he cracks, Liam," Zayn said gently, thumb rubbing gently across the arrows on his forearm. Liam breathed deep, nodded, savoured the familiar amber of Zayn's eyes while he could-- soft, genuine, and contemplative as ever-- now coated in worry and fear that looked a lot like the tears that were daring to spill down Liam's own cheeks.

Louis, on Liam's other side, reached up and slowly peeled the tape off his mouth. He didn't say anything, just folded it in half and shoved it into his pocket, eyes trained on the camera lense, and Liam had never seen such little life in his expression. Even when he was sick or tired or upset, Louis brought this level of energy to any room. His mood influenced everyone else's, no matter if he was feeling chatty or cuddly or moody or goofy. But now? With the knees of his jeans ripped to reveal bloodied up knees, an ugly bruise on his left elbow, a cut across his eyebrow? He was eerily calm, eyes vacant, upper lip twitching ever so slightly.

Liam wanted to say something, but the words didn't come as easily with Louis, someone who wasted no time in speaking his mind and comforting his boys when they needed it; but this was his breaking point, Liam assumed. He didn't blame Louis at all for it, either. Louis was everyone's rock, everyone's older brother, everyone's best friend. He did enough working and comforting for a lifetime, and Liam thought it best that he gather his wits for once, instead of trying to put everyone else ahead of him. A hypocritical thought, but a smart one.

"I don't know what to do," Liam croaked out, looking desperately at Zayn, whose expression softened, even through his nervous glance towards the men, still huddled together acros the room. The first tear spilled over, warm and too wet-- everything was wet and Liam hated it-- and he wanted to wipe it away, but his head was too sensitive to move his neck too quickly, in order to rub his cheek against his shoulder. So, as Zayn used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the stray tear, Liam busied himself blinking back any new ones and cursing his handcuffs for making him less than self-sufficient. 

Zayn nodded empathetically, the kind of expression that shows how genuinely he  _did_ get it. Although that could've been distressing, what with neither of them knowing what to do, it was more comforting, feeling the shared emotion with his best friend. "I don't either. We'll figure it out."

And although his mind was screaming all sorts of nonsense about escaping or breaking the window in "his" room or finding a way to pick the lock and sneak out in the night... his heart was screaming that it was going to be okay, in the end.

When the men broke apart from their huddle, reminding them not to talk once again as Jim reached over and pressed a button on the camera. The red light on the side lit up, and another man Liam hadn't seen before held up a cue card. Niall seemed to know what to do, reading the script they'd written for him with what was probably the least sarcasm or fear he could muster. Liam didn't know why they'd picked Niall, but he seemed to have come to terms with the situation more gracefully than Louis or Harry or Liam-- or even possibly Zayn, who was comforting Liam somehow, even when Liam's Hero Complex insisted it should be the other way around.

He tried his best to look determined, rather than wounded, but with each passing word, he felt the tears welling up in his eyes again, the lump forming in his throat, and he had to try and tune it all out. Look anywhere but at the camera or the men. His eyes ended up in his own leg, staring at the blood stain on his left thigh. He wondered if that blood was his own, or someboy else's.

After their "proof of life" video was done and overwith, Jim escorted Liam back to his room. Liam's questions were burning his throat, sitting on the tip of his tongue and getting swallowed back, but there was something about the situation that made him reluctant to ask any real questions. Then, though, as Jim collected Liam's plate and cup, Liam felt brave.

He situated himself with his back against the spot where he and Zayn had fallen asleep, Zayn mentioning every few minutes that things were going to be okay until he drifted off, and then Liam nodding off soon after. It was still dripping with the imaginary warmth that the conversation had brought to the pit of Liam's stomach.

"Can I have these off?" Liam asked, referring to the handcuffs.

"When I come with your lunch," Jim shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

Liam wanted to make a snarky comment about the lack of breakfast, but then remembered that the teasing thing only worked that well for Peter Parker, and he had an easy escape route and a secret identity. "Why are we here?"

Jim frowned a bit, scowled, as he leaned stiffly against the doorframe. "You heard that script your friend read, right? 'S nothing personal, kid. Ransom. You're the Billion Dollar Boy Band or something."

Liam nodded. "Right. Ransom. How much do you want? I'll pay you."

"Goes a bit deeper than that. After it's all over, you and I can grab a cup of coffee and I'll tell you the whole story. But, for now, don't slam your head against anything. Proof of life is only valid if you're alive."

With that, he shut the door, leaving Liam to his thoughts-- and to.. Zayn.

"Zee?" Liam asked, head turned towards the wall.

"Hey," Zayn replied. "Mysterious."

"Says his name is Jim," Liam said, shutting his eyes. He pretended, with the real scenery blocked out, that things were normal. He and Zayn, having a chat like always. "Not sure if he really strikes me as a Jim."

"Reminds me of a vampire, almost."

"Hmm," Liam said, thoughtful and questioning, but not unkind. Never unkind. "I can see that. Wonder why they're keeping us apart."

"Don't want us pooling our knowledge and planning an escape on them, I reckon. Probably smart, innit? Proper group of geniuses, when we're together."

A hummed response and a deep breath. Liam let his body slump against the wall. "I think I have a concussion or something."

"First stop when we're out will be the hospital."

"What do you think Jim meant?" Liam asked. "About it being deeper than just ransom, I mean."

"Not everything is just-so Liam. Things are complicated and... it sucks that people feel like this sort of thing is the only way to solve their problems. But it's our responsibility to inspire people to be the best versions of themselves, right? That's what being an artist is. So if we can show the assholes that they maybe don't have to be assholes, we can be on our merry way."

"You'd think if the whole 'deeper' thing had much to do with us, they'd have done more than some sedatives and uncomfortable living quarters," Liam joked, a lame attempt to lighten the mood a bit. 

Zayn chuckled a bit, although Liam could barely hear it. "Yeah. With them treating us so nicely, they could at least bring in some mattresses and deodorant. I'm already starting to smell, since it's fucking humid down here all day and then cold and sticky all night."

"Maybe a few space heaters, too. Some paint on the walls. I feel like a mistreated animal right now."

"That's your claustrophobia talking," Zayn advised. "Not a tight spaces sort of thing, but an inability to leave. Just close your eyes and pretend you're in you're very favourite place."

Liam imagined he was in his mum's kitchen, the time Zayn and Niall came to stay for the weekend and they made an apple pie. He could almost smell the cinnamon.

 

\--

 

It was almost like transferring to a new school. When Zayn and Liam were brought their lunch, and Liam's handcuffs were unlocked and taken away, they were also handed new clothes. Zayn described his as old and baggy, but Liam's were a bit small around his shoulders and short on his legs. He wished they could switch. For dinner, Jim allowed them all to eat together in the Proof of Life Room, but the meals were silent, due to the men standing on either side of the door, staring at them. When nature called, Jim or another man named Charlie would escort him down the hall to a room that was only a faucet on the wall and a toilet. No mirror, no proper sink. He sometimes rinsed himself off and ran wet fingers through his hair in order to look a bit more presentable for group dinner in the Proof of Life Room.

By the fourth day, Liam declared to Zayn through the wall that he'd gone crazy. He had a schedule and everything. He knew the layout of the entire downstairs. He and Zayn were on one side of the hall, the side with the toilet. The other lads were on the other side, with the Proof of Life Room. The men stayed upstairs, apart from the men on either end of the hall, in shifts. Usually Jim and Charlie whenever Liam needed the toilet. At lunch, "clean" clothes were delivered. No breakfast. Water as requested. One video filmed each morning, with fewer and fewer words each passing day. And the part that Liam decided made him crazy; he became used to it.

"It's like boarding school... but in hell," Liam muttered. And Zayn laughed. An actual, genuine laugh that send a warm pulse over Liam's skin. There was something so normal about it. 

"So, you adjust easily. Not a big deal, just means you're tough."

A pause, an end to the discussion questioning Liam's sanity. Liam was running out of things to talk about with Zayn, after four days of doing nothing but-- avoiding sore subjects or anything to do with the proper outside world, limited them to talking about books and movies and playing silly games, singing dumb songs. He decided it was time to break down a barrier. "Louis has a new scar every day at dinner," he stated simply.

"He fights them," Zayn agreed. "I can hear it at night, after you're asleep. Wants to check on us."

"Yeah," Liam agrees, thinking fondly of the way he's greeted with a warm hug from each of his friends every evening. Even through the silence, there is a bond between the five of them that goes unspoken, words unsaid that don't need to be vocalized.

"Thought I might ask if they'd let us have mattresses-- or uh blankets? Something. My back is killing me."

"Think I'm losing my bulk," Liam said glumly. "Really all I had going for me." He kept his tone light, but Zayn scoffed as though he were personally offended.

"As if, Liam. There's a lot more to love about you than your muscles," Zayn said.

There was a long pause, in which Liam tried to figure out why the kind, genuine tone Zayn was using made him feel the way a blanket fresh from the dryer felt on your skin. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Zayn said, chuckling slightly. "Wouldn't be best mates with anybody who was nothing but a pair of nice arms."

Liam paused, unsure of what to say next. This was the kind of thing that would've usually warranted some dramatic fake tears and a bear hug, complete with sobs that were laced with laughter. Now, though, nobody was messing about. There was only sincerity and fondness swirling in Zayn's words and Liam bit his lip to keep from saying something lame in reply. 

Finally, he settled on, "There's a lot to love about you too."

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, but was full of an unspoken emotion. Liam realized, as he settled in with his right arm pressed against the wall, that they were never going to be the same people. Maybe there was less to love about him now; Liam's mind was previously undirtied for the most part. But this? This was traumatic. He wasn't sure what sort of "real world" problems would stem from it-- he could be somebody virtually un-lovable. He could lose touch of himself-- he could lose the people closest to him.

He could lose Zayn. Zayn, who was always exactly what Liam needed him to be, without need for discussion. What if Zayn couldn't be that anymore? More importantly, what if he didn't want to be? Liam began to panic again, just thinking about it. Everything was ruined. Things were never going to be the same. He almost wished to be locked up next door to Zayn forever, as to not have to face the aftermath. That was a silly wish.

 ________

Liam wasn't awoken until lunch the next day, and Jim didn't wake him up. His plate was handed to him, the door shut swiftly after. Confused and thrown off, Liam settled himself with his back against the wall and began to eat.

"Zee?" he wondered.

"I think whoever is in charge of this operation is here," Zayn said, skipping the greetings altogether. Previously, he'd made a point out of always saying hello. This was for Liam's benefit, he assumed, trying to maintain a sense of normality. While Zayn was level-headed and allowed himself to think rationally, Liam was impulssive and easily swayed in his emotions; it didn't take much to throw him off. 

Liam let Zayn's statement sink in before he replied. "What do you think that means? D'you think they got paid?"

"I don't think so," Zayn said. There was something wary, off, dangerous about his tone.

"What aren't you telling me?" Liam demanded, setting his plate aside.

Zayn tapped lightly on the wall, the rhythm of a song he might've been writing or singing in his head. Liam couldn't even tell these days. "I can almost hear into Niall's room," Zayn explained. "It didn't sound good."

Liam stiffened a bit. Not only were two of his friends now being beaten by their captors, but if the number was only going to keep increasing, eventually Harry and Zayn would be beaten too. None of his lads deserved it; if any of them were going to last through the beatings, it certainly wouldn't be Zayn or Niall. Liam had always viewed them as breakable, with their thin, wiry limbs and their lean muscle.

"Zee, we can't just let it happen," Liam rushed out, getting to his feet. He cursed himself for his inability to help anybody-- not even himself. Absentmindedly, he rubbed at his wrists, where the handcuffs had once been. They slapped them on him whenever he left "his room" but for now, his wrists were bare. "We didn't film a video today."

Zayn cleared his throat, and Liam knew that was signal he was trying to remain calm. "Do you think that's a good sign? They need to prove we're alive if they want to get paid, right?"

"Or it's bad. What if Niall and Louis are too bloodied up for a video?" Liam asked, his scowl turning into a grimace with each word. 

Moments passed before Zayn finally replied, leaving Liam suspended in his own worry. "Li, you don't think they'd...?"

Suddenly, Liam found himself in a position he'd never been in before. Zayn, his best friend, was always the one that didn't let Liam's imagination run too wild. But now, as he crouched back onto the ground, back against the wall, he found that it was his turn. "Zee, no. The boys are okay. We're okay. They'd have to be pretty dumb to hurt us that bad anyway, right? I mean, I know it's a bit cynical to think their payup could be the only reason not to kill us... but they won't kill anybody if means no money, okay? That much we can assume."

"Li, I'm scared," Zayn admitted. "What's keeping them from getting their money and then putting a few bullets through our heads and leaving us down here to rot?"

Liam was scared too. He was more scared than he'd ever been before. Feeling defenseless, like his life was in somebody else's hands entirely, it was an awful feeling. Liam couldn't even kill himself-- not conventionally anyway-- because any potential weapons were taken away from him. He'd admitted to Zayn that he'd contemplated starving himself or slamming his head against the wall until it split open, but that was always met with Zayn saying, 'If you go, I'm coming with you.'

Beside that, Liam didn't want any added trauma for Zayn. At least if they'd left him his belt, he could hang himself, nice and quiet. Zayn would have to listen to him bang his head on the wall, he'd have to watch Liam wither away into nothingness via starvation. There was no way to do it without Zayn essentially witnessing his death. It wasn't worth it.

"There's nothing stopping them," Liam admitted, "but if they kill us at the same time, at least I'll never have to live without my best friends."


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when the actual story kicks in. So, hopefully it's an improvement on the previous chapter. (And if you couldn't tell already, this is just about the cheesiest thing anybody has ever written.)

Liam and Zayn started plotting from either side of their wall. They were reluctant to call anything here theirs-- Zayn told Liam early on about hostages eventually coming to think of their situation as safe and familiar-- but there was no denying that this wall was the best thing that had happened to Liam since getting into that car however many days ago. He hated choosing favourites, honestly, but he was glad it was Zayn he was next door to. He and Zayn had always shared a different kind of connection. A sort of unspoken bond that was there from the very start. Communication came easily, and his worries could be expressed without fear of embarrassment; Zayn was always kind and helpful, and Liam tried to return the favour.

Zayn was better at making up escape plans than Liam. Liam realized, as they spoke about it, how much he generally relied on brute force or direct confrontation to get things done, whereas Zayn was clever and sharp witted and almost scarily sneaky. He even found it somewhere in his heart to admire Zayn for every little thing he did-- from the way he constantly worked on expanding his vocabulary to the way he pronounced certain words (especially Liam) and the fondness didn't fade with the less ideal circumstances. If anything, it gave Liam more time to simply sit and be in awe of his total and complete Zayn-ness.

"Jim leaves his post after dinner, but Charlie doesn't show up for another ten minutes after. There's a loose nail in the toilet that I don't think they've noticed yet-- I think it's thin enough to use on the lock in here. If not, we'll just have to be faster about it and break down the doors or something," Zayn was saying. Liam swore he could feel where Zayn's body heat and his own were overlapping through the wall. He sat in the same spot all the time, so that his bum had actually become accustomed to the feel of it. He wouldn't admit it to anybody-- especially not Zayn-- but he slept with his back pressed against the wall, a sense of stability in the solidarity and Zayn-linked memories attached to it.

"Okay," Liam agreed. He was reluctant to mention it, scared of what Zayn would say. "What if we just waited it out? Waited for whomever to pay up?"

Zayn was silent for a moment, and Liam fought back the urge to play it off as a silly question. "Jim said it was about more than money, right? So what if the other part of it... what if it's something more than money? Li... I don't think we can take that chance. You've seen the state Louis and Niall are in. If we don't get out soon, these guys are going to get restless, waiting for their payup. We both know who they're going to take it out on."

"Everything is going to be okay," Liam stated firmly.

Zayn chuckled. "How could you know that, Li? How could you possibly know, if I can't even look you in the eyes, and I might not get to talk to you face to face ever again?"

"I asked Jim if he'd move us together," Liam replied, worried that it would sound needy. "Explained that all we do is talk anyway. Be nice to do it face to face."

"What'd he say?" Zayn asked. 

"Said he'd ask the boss, whomever that is," Liam shrugged, despite Zayn's inability to see it.

"The Boss," Zayn chuckled, a bitter aftertaste in his tone. "I just wish we knew what was really going on here."

"I do too," Liam agreed. "But when we get out, we'll know the truth, I bet."

 

\--

 

 

"I could kill for a smoke," Zayn said. "This will do wonders for me quitting, yeah?"

"Sure, Zee."

"If somebody says, 'I'm lying,' are they lying or telling the truth?"

"You're an idiot," Liam replied, fond as ever, and so terribly endeared, listening to Zayn babble on about absolutely nothing.

Zayn swatted at the wall playfully with what sounded like such little energy, Liam almost felt guilty for teasing. "Humour me?"

Liam hummed. "Bit of a contradiction, innit? If they're lying, then they'd be telling the truth, yeah? But if they're telling the truth, that means they're lying. Are you trying to make my brain explode?"

"Just thinking," Zayn replied softly. His body stiffened after a moment of silence. "Somebody's coming."

"Jim?"

"Can't tell; nobody's talking."

Liam could hear Zayn's door open, muffled voices on the other side, and then the shuffle of several pairs of feet retreating into the hallway. Liam's own door flew open then, squeaking on its hinges. It sounded an awful lot like a scream of pain to him.

No words were spoken, but Zayn was guided into the room, the door shut (and locked) after him. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, really; some dramatic presentation of his friend's arrival? No, this was better anyway, because without awkward introductions, it didn't seem that weird when Zayn slumped to the floor next to Liam and curled up at his side, squeezing like he was afraid the door would open again and put him back next door.

They didn't say so, but they both felt relief, a warm sense of security with their bodies pressed together at the hip and shoulder, limbs slung lazily over each other in whatever way felt comfortable. If Liam shut his eyes and ignored the discomfort of the floor, he could pretend they were cuddled up on the couch together in the studio, listening to Niall lay down harmonies in the booth

Seeing each other face to face, the conversation was even softer and more infrequent. They'd occasionally shift positions, play a game of 20 questions or have staring contests, but for the most part, they stayed cuddled up against the wall, happy for the human contact. Eventually, after what Liam assumed was a few hours, Zayn slipped his soft, thin fingers against Liam's palms, unraveling Liam like untying a bow and opening his hand up to Zayn's. Their hands filled each other nicely. Any voids or emptiness Liam had been feeling seemed to exit his body with the sigh he let out, squeezing tight.

"Liam," Zayn said, a significance to his voice. "You're the best person I've ever known." Liam opened his mouth to protest-- some bullshit 'what about Perrie?' or something else neither of them wanted to discuss, but Zayn simply shook his head. "I love you, man. I don't think I could've gotten through this with anybody else. I love you."

Liam cleared his throat, trying to rid the lump in his throat. "I love you too." Maybe the significance in Zayn's voice that Liam had originally picked up on was not just that of platonic admiration, but of something much more passionate and intimately genuine. "I really do."

 

__

 

"How long have we been in here?" Liam asked, one hand placed over his stomach and the other tangled up in Zayn's hair. "I stopped counting the days."

"I don't know," Zayn muttered. "Miss my mum's cooking."

"Miss my bed," Liam replied, eyes fluttering over Zayn's body, which was sprawled out in star formation. His entire body rose and fell with each breath he took, his stomach lifting him when it expanded to take in the air. They were deep, shaky breaths, and Liam realized that Zayn was going through some sort of odd withdrawal. Up until a few hours earlier, Zayn had seemed less bothered by any of it than Liam, but now he could barely function.

Liam pulled his hand out of Zayn's hair, and Zayn whined in protest, until Liam swung his leg over Zayn's body, taking a seat on Zayn's bum and digging his thumbs into Zayn's back. He tried to keep most of his weight firmly on Zayn's bum, as to not keep him from breathing properly, but he wasn't sure it mattered so much, considering how much weight he'd lost.

After a minute or so of massaging his neck and shoulders, Liam leaned down and kissed the back of Zayn's neck, which was cold and damp, but not unpleasantly so. His lips lingered for a moment, and when Zayn grunted, he moved up onto his knees, allowing Zayn to roll onto his back under him. Liam lowered himself back onto Zayn, his body landing gently onto Zayn's crotch and his arms encircling Zayn's neck. They held each other's gaze, a significant phrase silently exchanged, before Liam kissed each of his cheeks and then the right corner of his mouth, unsure of whether the kissing was to become a regular thing. 

Zayn reached up with shaky hands to grab onto the back of Liam's head, holding it firmly in place, hovering over Zayn's. They didn't kiss again, but Liam removed a hand from Zayn's neck to hold his hand instead, fingers slick from the sweat on Zayn's neck, but his eyes filled with unwavering fondness. 

They stayed like that for a while, chatting about nonsense things like super powers and odd combinations of foods. As they tangled further and further into each other, Liam tried to fight the feeling bubbling up in his stomach, but he'd been stuck in a weird sort of funk ever since they'd kissed and he was having trouble fighting the itch in his hands to touch and hold. 

Liam's lips seemed to just throb, demanding to explore more of Zayn, and though his heart hurt when his fingers brushed against the harsh bones along Zayn's sides, his stomach lept into his throat when Zayn pressed kisses into his hairline.

"Macaroni with custard instead of cheese," Liam suggested, now resting his head on Zayn's chest. Zayn chuckled, which rocked both of their bodies and caused Liam to create some accidental friction, and when they both froze because of it, Zayn could feel Liam's cheek warming up against his chest. "Sorry," Liam mumbled, voice small and embarrassed.

Zayn didn't respond, just began rubbing gentle circles on Liam's back. "I love you, man."

"I love you too," Liam replied, fingers gently tracing Zayn's ribs. As the words came out, Liam liked the way they fit in his mouth, the way the sounded in the lustful and decidedly not platonic tone. He liked the way Zayn drew in a breath when Liam said it back, like he was nervous he wouldn't. The silence in the space where Liam would've usually said  _bro_ or something felt so heavy in his chest that he considered tacking it on now, after the meaning had already been established; Liam did not love Zayn as a  _bro;_ at least not anymore.

Zayn took in a deep breath and shifted his body, craning his neck to catch Liam's gaze. "I love you, too." Liam couldn't quite tell if Zayn had caught on, but he judged by the slight confusion in his eyes and decided to try again.

"I love you," Liam choked out, squeezing his eyes shut, scared of Zayn's reaction. "I-- I  _love_ you Zee... I don't think I-- if it were anybody else I'd blame it on the lack of food but I. I can't look at you without just feeling so  _happy,_ and I feel safe when you rub my wrist like you're doing right now, and I just, I think that I love you, and it's so selfish of me to say that because I know that it's not that easy, but right now, like, in this moment it is really easy and I love you."

Zayn nodded. "I love you too," Zayn said, voice firm and decisive. "I do."

Liam dared himself to just let himself enjoy the moment, his body was ready to settle in for a nap in this position, but instead, he pulled off of Zayn's chest and sat down on the floor instead, facing Zayn with wide eyes. "Zayn, I don't want you to say it back if you don't mean it."

Zayn furrowed his brow, eyes calculating and impossible to read. "I do mean it. I do, Li. God, I've been harboring this for so long-- you, when I realized you were next door and I could  _hear you._ I don't think I could've lasted-- I mean, I've always been scared of losing you, but then they threw me in here and for the first few hours before you woke up I just kept worrying that I'd never get to tell you, you know? God, Li, you're just so  _oblivious,_ I've always  _needed_ you! Always, I have, and you've always just been there and I was so happy to be able to pay you back and then you kissed me, I just, I was done trying not to feel things, Li, I'm done with that. It's bullshit.

"So, I'm scared of what's going to happen next, but I want to try so bad to be what you need me to be. I'm so scared right now, and I need you to tell me that  _you_ mean it, and that you're not having a momentary lapse of judgment, because I don't think I can take you changing your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind," Liam said, pausing momentarily before adding, "I'm scared too."

And that was that.

 

That night, at what Liam guessed was half ten, he was stirred awake by the sound of Zayn whimpering in his sleep, eyes squeezed shut so tight it almost looked painful. And it was sort of ridiculous to feel so domestic in a situation like this, but they'd spent long enough, just the two of them, that Liam felt domestic. He felt boyfriend-y, he felt life partner-y, and he felt we-live-together-y. And so, with the stillness all around them soft like the blanket Liam wished they had right about now, Liam gently stirred Zayn awake, happy to meet his frantic eyes through the dark. Because even if they weren't technically domestic or partners or whatever, they  _were_ friends. 

"You were dreaming," Liam explained, propping himself up on his shoulders to get a better look at Zayn. He looked like he was withering away into nothingness, shrinking and wilting more and more each day, but all Liam could see was strength. And bravery, and beauty. This was Zayn, the same Zayn there'd always been lying next to him, whether it was in sleeping bags in a basement in 2011, or hotel room beds in America in 2013. This was Zayn. His Zayn. "Are you okay?"

Zayn nodded, not removing his gaze from Liam's as they seemed to wiggle their way closer together subconsciously, heat-seeking missiles ready to explode upon the contact of the lips, and that was exactly where Zayn was aiming, eyes fluttering shut like he trusted Liam to lead him blindly through the entire world. Liam's lips found Zayn's too, not a crash or an explosion, but a gentle press, something so innocent it could've been platonic, if not for the way Liam's hands shook, itching to touch, and his heart thumped in his ears, blood pulsing like he was holding the explosion down in his gut. 

It was a slow kiss, dry and soft and shivering, shaking, anticipating. Zayn made contact first, hands resting on either side of Liam's neck, and Liam instantly responded by tangling one hand in the hair on the back of Zayn's neck, which couldn't have grown  _that_ much since they'd been here, but it felt so much longer than usual. His mind didn't stay on Zayn's hair for long, with Zayn's body pressing Liam's shoulder blades back down against the floor, his right elbow shaking under all of his weight-- it didn't used to do that, but he never had enough energy for anything anymore, really. He had enough energy to feel, and to touch, and to be next to Zayn, who was slowly making the transition to  _on top of._ "Can you take this off?" Zayn asked, tugging gently at the fabric of the shirt on Liam's body. He was fairly sure he had it on backwards anyway, and of course he wanted to have fewer clothes on with Zayn, even if it was cold and damp in this room.

Liam felt dizzy as he nodded frantically and tugged it over his head, trying not to break eye contact with Zayn as he did. Because Zayn looked him up and down the way anybody else might've a month ago, when Liam was lean muscle and warmth. Now he was a shivering, thin mess with sunken in eyes and a heart that beat embarrassingly loudly in his chest. Zayn was fully on top of Liam now, straddling him, with his hands-- cold hands-- pressed against Liam's bare stomach. They looked at each other for a long moment before either of them moved, gazes locked as they each went to remove more clothes. 

It was an awkward fumbling, limbs accidentally knocking and pant legs getting stuck or tossed so that they made awkward noises. But, Liam saw Zayn like that, so brave and vulnerable all at once. Eyes unashamed as they studied Liam's very bare body. "Beautiful," Zayn complimented, cold hands running along Liam's ribs and down to his hip bones. He moved to straddle Liam again, and it was sort of weird to have his nakedness pressed up against someone else's-- admittedly, it'd been a while since Liam had done anything like this. 

But Zayn didn't seem like he was unsure, and even if he was nervous, Liam wasn't unsure either. In fact, before he'd woken up, he'd been dreaming about this very thing. Of course, in his fantasizing mind, there were more ideal circumstances, like a comfortable bed, and mood lighting and a nice playlist. But Liam didn't really need any of that. He had Zayn. He wanted Zayn.

"Do you...?" Liam didn't finish his sentence, because Zayn reached forward and gently took Liam's hand into his own. He placed one of Liam's fingers onto his tongue and then guided it back towards his bum. And really, in other circumstances, that would've been sexy. But, right then, Liam just felt happy to be with Zayn, happy to be holding him and touching him and happy that he could make Zayn look so blissed out, when he was only stretching him out. 

Liam knew how this worked-- he'd seen plenty of gay porn. It was just one of those things he'd figured he ought to explore, just in case the knowledge was ever needed. Apparently, it was coming in handy, watching Zayn rock back and forth on his fingers, trembling hands pressed against Liam's chest for support? And Liam made Zayn feel like that. Liam did. When Liam added a second finger, Zayn started to tense up, as though the reality of the situation was starting to hit him. Worried, Liam stilled his motion and tried to catch Zayn's gaze, but his eyes were shut. "Don't stop," Zayn croaked out. "Feels good."

"Okay," Liam agreed, moving again, but more slowly. "Breathe, okay?"

Zayn nodded, shoulders slumping again after a minute. Liam paused, twisted his fingers, saw that Zayn didn't feel any discomfort, and then added a third finger, slowly and cautiously. Zayn didn't tense up again, but he stopped rocking for a brief second, eyes snapping open to connect with Liam's in the dark. "You can move now," he said. And Liam couldn't believe just how brave Zayn was. He knew it probably felt good, but he knew he'd be nervous. Maybe this wasn't the first time Zayn had done it, or maybe he'd just mentally prepared himself, but no matter the case, Liam was way past turned on, even if he was trying to be as gentle as possible. There was no lube, no condoms, and the floor wasn't exactly soft and welcoming to the sort of movement they'd be doing. But he cared so deeply for Zayn, and wanted to feel close to Zayn in this moment-- in every moment. It made it that much better that Zayn seemed like he wanted to just as much.

"Another?" Liam asked, after watching Zayn rock back and forth on his fingers for a few minutes longer.

Zayn nodded, eyes shut again. He was at a slightly different angle that before, more upright, hands closer to Liam's cock, and he brushed his fingers absentmindedly over the head, leaving Liam panting at the touch. It had been a while since he'd even touched himself-- he hadn't wanted to since the ordeal, but Zayn had this wonderful normality that Liam craved. He completely forgot the circumstances, and it was tunnel vision, focused on the way the sweat was in little beads on Zayn's forehead and chest, rolling down in tiny little lines.

After a while the fourth finger, Zayn pulled all the way off and leaned down to kiss Liam again, lips so chapped and dry but still so soft and so Zayn-- just as Liam had remembered them, tingling after dares to kiss and meaningless silly pecks in the years they'd known each other. But this was so different. Liam felt like he'd never truly understood the word intimate until this moment, watch Zayn's hand pump slowly over his cock. Liam wanted to grasp at the sheets that should've been under them, but instead just clawed at the ground, so wrecked from the touch of Zayn's rough, calloused hands. He was so used to his own hand, or a feminine, softer touch, and this, with the way Zayn twisted every few strokes, was enough to send him seeing stars.

Liam hadn't even realized he'd shut his eyes until the contact was broken and he opened them again, watching Zayn position himself over Liam's cock. "This okay?" Zayn asked, as though Liam's expression wasn't enough to tell him the answer. He waited, though, until Liam gave a jerky nod, a dopey grin plastered on his face, before slowly-- achingly and attractively-- lowered himself down. He was sufficiently stretched out, and only paused for a few moment before he slowly began to move, eyes locked with Liam's as the muscles in his thighs flexed and tightened. Liam couldn't even decide where to look, was the thing, overwhelmed by how much was feeling, emotionally and physically. Somehow, this felt like he'd been waiting for years-- maybe even his entire life, to do this very thing. And he hadn't even known it.

"You look so good," Liam breathed. "Riding my cock, I mean."

Zayn smiled fondly, leaning down so that his chest was pressed against Liam's. "Not a single person I'd rather be doing this with," he replied, hand sliding down Liam's left hand to hold his hand while his other supported some of his weight, pressed against the floor next to Liam's ribs.

They were quiet. Heavy breathing and soft moans, and in the position they were in, Zayn's cock was rubbing between their stomachs. Everything about it was warm and soft and deliciously sexual, everything they'd both been deprived of for the last few weeks.

Liam came first, not even embarrassed, and he swore he could feel his eyes rolling back into his head. Zayn rode him through his orgasm, their eyes locked on each other as Liam shook a bit, fingers clenching hard around Zayn's. Once he floated back into consciousness, Liam leaned forward so he was sitting up and gently lifted Zayn off, hand immediately wrapping around his cock to finish him off. They didn't break eye contact as Liam stroked, Zayn up on his knees and Liam sitting down, legs sprawled out and sweat dripping down his back. Zayn tossed his head back when he came, a soft moaned escaping from around the place where his front teeth were digging into his bottom lip. Liam kissed all over Zayn's body until they were both done shaking, and then they crawled away from the mess they'd left behind to try and finish their nights' sleep. 

Liam wondered if sex could ever feel that important and significant with anybody else.


	3. 03

 he was stirred awake by the roar of sirens. He pulled his left arm out from under Zayn very gently and shuffled over to his little window, peering out and the barely-illuminated landscape. All he could really see was the side of the house, but then the flash of  red and blue lights began to hit the chipping white paint, and he pressed his palms against the cool wall.

At first, he told himself not to get his hopes up; two days earlier, someone down the street had an ambulance parked outside their house with the sirens going for a good two hours. But, this was different. The sirens came from a different direction, and stopped right outside, wailing with urgency. And then there were more, so many that the sound was almost deafeningly loud. 

Zayn stirred awake at that point, when Liam was beginning to wonder if he'd slipped into a coma, and joined him at the wall, tilting his head way back to stare up at the window. Liam tore his gaze from the outdoors, resigned to the fact that all he could see was the house next door, and instead watched Zayn. His eyes were full of worry, his face splashed in blues and reds, but he looked flawless, and Liam's hope exploded wide open with each extra second he spent watching Zayn's expression change.

"Do you think?" Zayn muttered, glancing at Liam. His expression was all fear and no hope, but Liam suspected it was for the reasons nagging at the back of his own mind, that he'd managed to push aside in favour of hoping to be rescued. In fact, those worries had kept him awake for a full hour after Zayn had drifted, studying his sleeping face as Liam worried about returning to the real world even more than  _never_ returning at all. The real world brought difficulties, it brought secrets and diagnoses and interviews and Liam only wanted Zayn, really. 

Liam nodded, placing a comforting hand on the small of Zayn's back as they turned their gazes back to the stunningly bright lights outside. 

After a minute more, there was a crash of broken glass and the thump of feet running around upstairs, and before it really registered that they were being rescued, Liam turned Zayn around by his shoulders and kissed him hard, fear swelling up in his chest. Neither of them said so as they parted, but it was a goodbye kiss. Goodbye to the easy affection they'd developed, and the freedom to let the emotions rule their actions. 

Zayn didn't seem to care in slightest about goodbyes, because with tears in his eyes, he tangled his fingers into Liam's as they listened to the feet running and the shouting upstairs. They each flinched with each gunshot, and curled further into each other, and by the time the door flew open and an overwhelming number of men flooded into the room to escort them out, they were squeezing so tight to each other that they couldn't be separated. Not that either of them really wanted to be either.

 

__

 

Blankets were placed over their shoulders as they were led swiftly into the back seats of police cars, as if blankets were the authorities' cure for any sort of trauma. Admittedly, Liam felt a lot better, legs crossed up on the seat in the back of the car and the blankets covering every inch of his frail body.

Zayn sat in the seat next to him with his legs tucked up against his chest. He rested his chin on his knees, watching the world fly past as the car set into motion. The world had kept on turning without them-- even as famous as they were, it wasn't a surprise. People get over things quickly. Millions of people probably get abducted every week all over the world, not that it made it any more or less okay.

"Do you think it'll be different?" Zayn asked, not meeting Liam's gaze. "I mean, do you think we'll have to talk about it? Is this what we'll be known for? Not our brilliant fans or our accomplishments as a band, but the fact that we got kidnapped and held hostage? I don't want that, Li." His voice was soft, and calm, barely audible over the sound of the chatter on the police scanner, but Liam offered an unsteady hand, peeking out from under the covers to clutch Zayn's.

Surely Zayn didn't want to hear the whole truth right now, when their entire lives were about to change. As much as he wished they could insert themselves back into the world like nothing had happened, he knew there were lots of struggles ahead. Instead of answering, so he wouldn't be forced to lie to Zayn, Liam moved their clasped hands up to his face and pressed a tender kiss to the back of Zayn's hand before lowering them into the nest of blankets in his lap. He told himself the way his thumb instantly began to drag along Zayn's bird tattoo could be completely platonic if they tried hard enough to swallow their feelings-- he also knew that Zayn was a nice fit.

When the officer driving asked if they wanted water, Liam realized all at once that he was not okay. When he looked at the reflection of the officer's eyes in the rear view mirror, and he was reminded that the last however many days had not been normal. Talking to Zayn through the wall, and later in the same room, let Liam pretend that everything was okay. Zayn was his new sense of normality, of safety, and of comfort. And in theory, that could be platonic. But the way the sad shine of Zayn's eyes made Liam want to kiss the tears away and hold him until he fell asleep. Wanted to wake up to find Zayn's hair falling into his eyes, matted over his forehead. That wasn't platonic. Zayn mumbled a soft "No thank you," to the officer.

"We're tough," Liam said to Zayn, for lack of a better response to the loaded question he'd asked. "We can adjust."

"Okay," Zayn agreed, turning his body to face the window. He pressed his back gently into Liam's shoulder, still holding softly to the slim, weakened fingers that were once strong and always warm. The officer caught Liam's eyes again, but quickly looked away, as though he wanted to give the pair in the back seat some privacy.

Zayn fell asleep soon after, his head falling back onto Liam in a way that looked extremely uncomfortable. He shifted, moving his shoulder down to accommodate him, Zayn's head falling into the crook of Liam's neck. 

 

At the station, Liam and Zayn huddled in close as they shuffled inside, escorted on every side by an officer. Over the crowd and the flashing of blue and red and white lights all around, Liam could make out the tops of the other boys' heads, being marched into the building ahead of them.

Despite the chaos all around them, Liam felt the air still around them when Zayn reached over to slip his hand into the back pocket of Liam's jeans.  It wasn't a sexual thing, not really, just a way of holding onto Liam, but it felt so significant that Liam reached over and gently slipped his own hand into Zayn's pocket, then pressed their shoulders together, so they were closer. 

Once they were told to sit in chairs next to each other, they knew it would be too obvious to hold hands or anything, and Liam realized that this might've been the last time they can do that sort of thing-- at least for a long while. He watched as one by one the other lads were taken in for questioning, until only he and Zayn remained, and he knew he'd be next.

"Zee?" Liam asked, nudging Zayn's foot with his own. Zayn turned to look at him, eyelids drooping and a yawn forming in his throat. "I-- uh, I love you."

Zayn suppressed the yawn, drew in his eyebrows, and placed a hand lightly on Liam's knee. "I love you too."

"Mr. Payne?" a male officer with a full mustache and beard asked, waving him along down the same hall he'd led the other boys down. "Officer Mitchell is ready to see you."

Liam gently squeezed Zayn's hand and lifted it off his knee and into Zayn's lap, a lingering gaze sticking hard to Zayn's profile as he followed along down the hall. He didn't like the way his feet hurt when he walked, or the way his entire body felt cold and empty without Zayn's pressed against it, but he assumed he'd get used to that soon enough.

"Please take a seat," Officer Mitchell said, smiling sympathetically at him. Liam was already tired of this expression. The sympathetic smile seemed a lot more like one composed of pity, and he was never one to take advantage of or enjoy pity.

Obediently, Liam clutched the back of the chair across from the officer, wincing as it scraped loudly against the floor, and perching uncomfortably on the end of it, back stiff from sleeping on the floor. "Hello," he mumbled.

Officer Mitchell skipped the greetings and launched straight into an explanation of the events from the police's perspective. She then asked Liam to fill in the blanks from his own view, and he was careful to speak from fact and not opinion, as to match the other boys' stories. He neatly skimmed over the part where he and Zayn were in the same room, falling in love with each other and kissing in the dark. His lips tingled as he described when he'd heard the sirens, body twitching to dump in the part where he kissed Zayn hard and full.

"Officer Roberts said you and Mr. Malik were in the same room when they found you. How did that occur?"

Liam had forgotten that they'd seen them, but maybe him neglecting to add in that detail would make it seem more minor and easily forgotten, therefore insignificant. "Zayn I could hear each other through the wall together anyway. We just asked to be chucked in the same room."

Officer Mitchell nodded, and began pulling pictures out of a file, asking if Liam recognized them. He did, most of them, and he even supplied a few first names when he could. "Finally, I know you'd like to go home, but we've not had anyone check your vitals yet, and you'll have to do that before we can let you go. Obviously there's going to be extra security around. Just for your own protection."

Liam scratched the back of his neck, mumbling his understanding. "You never... you never mentioned how you found us? Is that top secret?"

Officer Mitchell shook her head, flipping through the file as she spoke, "One of the men involved called in, confessed everything, gave up the location. A... James Lorrey?"

Liam froze in his chair, throat going raw instantly. "Does he go by Jim?" he croaked out, voice desperate and shattered.

"I'm not sure," Officer Mitchell said, sounding confused. She pulled out another picture from the file. "This is him, though. Do you recognize him?"

Sure enough, clear as day, the picture was of Jim. Salt and pepper beard, watery kind eyes and all. Liam felt a soreness in his heart. Although he'd never admit it to anyone but Zayn, he'd never disliked Jim at all. In fact, he suspected Jim was a good guy all along. 

"Did he say why he was turning himself in?" 

"Something about not anticipating the treatment you were given. In over his head, I suppose. You met this man, then?"

"Yes," Liam nodded. "Saw him once or twice."

 

When Liam entered his flat, he ran straight through without turning on any lights and stepped into the shower, still fully clothed. As he turned on the water, he rid himself of his stale clothes, vowing to burn them later, and washed his hair with his shampoo that smelled of apples and  _man._

After an hour of trying to feel a bit more clean, he tugged on a clean pair of joggers and a Spice Girls t-shirt Zayn bought him in Japan and dove straight onto the bed, wrapping himself up in his own scent, eyes shutting into the stillness. He knew there were two men straight outside his door, just like before, but there was no Zayn next door or even cuddled up next to him, and he tossed and turned for two hours before he gave up and began his search for where he'd left his laptop.

He was reluctant to go on Twitter, scared of what people thought of the situation, and instead went straight to Netflix, pulling up a funny movie and climbing back into bed, hoping the sounds would lull him to sleep.

After twenty minutes, instead of falling asleep, Liam was startled by a knock at his front door and almost went to grab a weapon to defend himself, jumpy and paranoid, but soothed by his reality soon after. He waddled his way to the door on unsteady feet and opened the door, letting Zayn collapse straight into his arms.

"Couldn't sleep," Zayn mumbled into his shoulder, holding on for dear life as Liam shut the door behind them and pressed Zayn's back against the cool wood, still holding tight to him. "I love you, Li, I honestly love you so much, I know I say it a ton, but I feel like you don't really believe me yet, and--"

"I love you too," Liam breathed, pulling back a bit to kiss his lips softly, all dry lips and tight grips and cluttered limbs. "You really shouldn't be here... people are going to catch on if we keep... I don't want to ruin what you've got with--"

"Don't say her name," Zayn argued, pressing their lips back together a bit more forcefully. So Liam didn't, although her name nagged him as he tugged Zayn's shirt over his head and bit down on his bottom lip and sucked on his collar bones. Liam shut his eyes and banished all images of anybody but Zayn from his mind. This was Zayn, and just Zayn, in his arms. He wasn't holding anybody's heart in the balance, only his own. 

"Come to bed," Liam suggested, gripping the small of Zayn's back with shaking hands, longing to be touched and to touch. There wasn't any more discussion. Liam tugged Zayn along by the waist of his jeans, two fingers hooked through the belt loops, and he turned on the lights in the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to see all of Zayn. There was more to explore, still, with his lips and his hands, and he didn't want to miss a spot.

Hastily, hands sweaty and still quivering with anticipation, Liam removed his trousers and then Zayn's, gently palming over Zayn's semi-hard through his boxers. Liam took hold of Zayn's wrists and pressed them into the mattress above his head, and then leaned down to kiss every bit of skin he could, frustrated with the presence of Zayn's shirt. He removed his own, giving Zayn a chance to do the same. Immediately, Liam's fingers brushed across Zayn's breast bone, a place he knew made Zayn shiver. He pressed kisses to the skin all around that spot, slowly lowering himself down on top of Zayn. 

With his arms wrapped around Liam shoulders, Zayn positioned himself with his left leg between Liam's, and slowly rolled his hips up to meet Liam's. Without hesitation. Liam pressed his elbows down into the bed on either side of Zayn's body, and met Zayn's hips halfway, the added friction from his boxers causing him to hiss quietly into Zayn's ear.

"So pretty," Zayn complimented, pressing a kiss to Liam's temple, from where his head sat in the crook of Zayn's neck. 

As Liam moved with Zayn, breath growing unsteady and sweat forming on his forehead, he began to imagine doing this every night with Zayn. Kissing, and grinding, and feeling Zayn quiver against his body, whic shook more than it usually might-- was that Zayn or the lack of muscle? Liam didn't know, nor did he care, because when Zayn came up against him, and then pressed Liam's shoulder off and then down against the duvet in order to get his hand around Liam's cock, Liam was just as turned on as he was infatuated. With a final twist of his wrist, Zayn watched Liam come over his hand, eyes automatically going to watch Liam's spine arch off the bed, hands balled up in the fabric of the duvet. 

They didn't bother cleaning up, and Liam really should've minded, since it was a little bit gross. But they kissed in bed until they fell asleep, and Liam was thankful for mattresses and shampoo and Zayn Malik.

 

\--

 

Waking up with his flat all lit up and Zayn curled up next to him in bed, hogging all the covers, Liam had a sudden realization that his life had changed dramatically in more than one way. For some odd reason, in the midst of dehydration, starvation, and slowly slipping into mental instability, Liam had forgotten about how completely and entirely straight both he and Zayn were. Or, rather, were  _supposed_ to be. Liam only really knew the straight version of himself, the one that definitely had never noticed the way his dick used to twitch when Zayn would answer his front door in his boxers or licked his fingers after eating crisps with cheese powder.

In that room, all he'd known about the situation is that it felt right. He hadn't even thought to be surprised when Zayn revealed that not only were the feelings mutual, but had been a very long time coming on his end. Now, though, Liam couldn't help but begin to panic at the various reactions he'd have to soothe if anyone ever found out about what had really happened. Not only would the fans freak out, but his parents and ex-girlfriends would probably be extremely confused. His new-found infatuation with Zayn didn't lessen his previous affection for those women in any way-- however, he worried about Perrie endlessly as he watched Zayn breathe low and soft.

Finally, unable to swallow the guilt any longer, Liam reached over and shook at Zayn's shoulder until he stirred awake. "Zee, you need to go home."

Zayn sat up and rubbed at his eyes, looking annoyed and confused. "What are you on about?"

"Perrie's probably waiting for you," Liam said coldly, peeling the sheets off of his body and walking briskly out of his bedroom, not bothering to wait for Zayn's response. He tried to pretend he couldn't feel the dried cum on his thigh as he walked.

"Liam," Zayn was saying, following him to the front door. "I don't--"

"You don't miss her? You don't love her? What? Just go, please. Don't need anybody making assumptions, okay?"

"A bit late for that, wouldn't you say?" Zayn asked, tugging on his shoes and jumper. "I'm going to text you."

Liam shrugged, shutting the door softly in Zayn's face and collapsing neatly onto the welcome mat, back pressed against the wood. He bit back his tears and just sat there, looking around his flat like it was a foreign country. How was he supposed to jump right back into living his life? Living this odd, dream-like life, especially after only just leaving the nightmare?

 

The day dragged on so slowly after that, Liam felt as though he was constantly trying to move through a room filled waist deep in honey. When all of his family crammed themselves into his flat with the obvious intention of camping out until they were satisfied that he was alright, he let his mother and father wrap him up in suffocating hugs for hours at a time, and ignored his soft ring tone from between the layers of fabric. He knew it was Zayn, and he was not going to answer.

His mother said something about she'd always been scared that this level of success would lead to bad things-- Liam wanted to point out that people all over the world are tortured, raped, and murdered every day. He was locked in an uncomfortable room for a small chunk of time, and although other members of his band had been harmed, he had not, and had instead kissed and cuddled and proclaimed his ridiculous love for a boy. A boy with a girlfriend.

He excused himself to wash his hands, turned on the sink, and cried on the bathroom floor for five minutes, letting the way his life had altered extremely resonate in his chest. His own mother touched his arm as though she feared it would shatter. Liam imagined Zayn's father holding tight to the nape of Zayn's neck and look him hard in the eyes with a watery gaze. He felt a misplaced guilt low in the pit of his stomach when he imagined Perrie kissing Zayn hard and desperate.

Eventually, Liam splashed water across his cheeks and exited the bathroom, gaze low as he crawled back into the too-gentle arms of his parents. The conversation happened entirely in the kind of calculating whispers that made his skin itch. He longed for the casual infatuated way Zayn had spoken to him for the entire time they'd known each other, without fail and unwavering, completely void of pity for Liam which he was now being fed by the spoonful.

His parents occupied his guest room in the night, and the other members of his family that had taken time out of their days to come over spread out on the floor and couches. He offered to get them hotel rooms nearby, but it seemed like they thought only his bedroom belonged to him and him alone. The rest of this property was theirs to be occupied in order to look after him. He didn't say so aloud, but he'd felt more safe with Zayn in his arms the night before than his brother-in-law could ever make him feel by sleeping on the living room carpet.

 

"Perrie?" Liam grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. He checked the time on his watch and moaned; half three in the morning.

"He woke up in a cold sweat, mumbling about Jim... I don't know who Jim is, I just want him to stop crying. Please come over."

Liam's protective instincts kicked in and he scrambled out of bed. "I'll be there in five." 

Careful not to wake up anybody scattered around his house, Liam pulled on a pair of shoes and a jacket, weaving around the floor on his toes. One of his police escorts followed him wordlessly down the stairs and opened the passenger side door of his squad car for Liam. He was the cop from the original car he and Zayn were driven to the station in, he realized, and without Liam saying anything about it, the officer went in the direction of Zayn's house. The way his knuckles turned white and his foot seemed to be made of lead, Liam was almost surprised that he hadn't turned on the siren.

When they pulled up outside, they both exited the car, and Liam buzzed up to Zayn's flat. Perrie let them in without saying anything in reply, and they rode up in the elevator in the sort of silence Liam had left back at his own flat.

Perrie opened the door before he could knock on the door, pushing her messy hair out of her face. She looked distressed, but stepped aside to let Liam in. The officer stayed behind, taking up a stance next to one of the other men outside, so she shrugged and shut the door.

The scene here was similar to the one at Liam's place, but with more children. Tiny bodies curled up on a sofa, and Liam could name all of them without thinking too hard about it. He'd been invited to the most intimate of family events, even some of the ones Perrie didn't even attend. He held these people's hands and prayed with them before meals. He carried these children on his shoulders. He kissed the boy in the other room hard and felt his worries melt away.

"He's on Twitter," Perrie whispered, leading the way, as though Liam didn't know his way around. "I told him not to, but he didn't listen." They paused outside the door, and Perrie cleared her throat awkwardly before turning her body towards the kitchen. "I'll just.. uh, calm him down, yeah? Hate seeing him like this."

Liam nodded, tugging off his jacket as he opened the bedroom door. The entire room was only illuminated by the screen of Zayn's phone. Curtains drawn tight, lights off, walls absorbing the light with their darkness. Liam kicked off his shoes as he shut the door after himself, then climbed into the bed next to Zayn, gently taking the phone from his hands.

Zayn grabbed onto Liam instead, arms wrapping tight around his waist, not at all afraid of breaking him. "You didn't text me back," Zayn pointed out.

"We're not doing this," Liam said. "Not with your mum in the next room-- not with.... not with Perrie in the next room, alright? I can't."

"Li," Zayn breathed. "I can't sleep without you."

"Take a pill," Liam replied, trying to sound like this didn't bother him at all. His own sleep had been restless and came in hour-long chunks with minutes of thought in between. 

Zayn took in a shaky breath, arms moving off of Liam's body. "It's too hard for me. To look them in the eye and whatever else. I can't-- I can't take all the pity, Li. I wasn't-- I didn't die back there. But they're looking at me like I'm a ghost... they touch me like they're not sure if I'm real, like I'll disappear if they press too hard."

"I can't fix that," Liam pointed out, voice shaky and wrecked, because Zayn  _got it_ and probably will always just  _get it._ "I can't make that better."

"You don't do that," Zayn continued, ignoring Liam. "Perrie won't even kiss me. Like she's scared of me-- but I know she isn't. She said your name like she knew. But she doesn't, or she wouldn't have called you. Didn't think she would."

"She said you were talking about Jim. You know what he did, then?"

Zayn shook his head. "I had a feeling about him. A... a not-bad feeling. Makes my skin itch, thinking about what's going to happen next. What did he do?"

"He called the police, Zee," Liam said, eyes staring intently into where he knew Zayn's to be. The darkness prevented him from seeing Zayn's real features, but he could imagine them all so well-- it was like it was daylight. "Always knew you were a bit psychic."

"I need to kiss you," Zayn said, ignoring the new information. "May I kiss you?"

"Kiss Perrie," Liam replied, in the sort of voice that could break anybody's heart.

Zayn placed two fingers under Liam's chin and pressed their lips together soft and damp. Liam kept his eyes open, searching for the truth in Zayn's image, even in the dark. This close, he could make out the flutter of Zayn's eyelashes, eyes shut gently.

"You," Zayn said when they parted lips. "I said I needed to kiss you, Liam."

"This isn't okay," Liam said, climbing out of the bed. "Please go to sleep. I'll see you at work."

Zayn was going to protest, and he could tell, so he collected his jacket and shoes and left the room, shutting the door quiet but firm behind him. His heart hurt with the kind of conflict that ends relationships and sends a person into a panic. The passion for Zayn outweighed the pain for Perrie, but it didn't lessen it in the slightest.

He ignored the tingle on his lips and the longing in his bones as he and officer climbed back into the car. He wondered how Zayn felt, how he planned on trying to make this work with Liam. How was he so ready to cheat on Perrie, lead her along, make her hurt like that? Or was it Liam he was playing for the fool? Emotional support and comfort didn't equate to infatuation, and although Liam felt all of those things with Zayn didn't mean that Zayn felt all of the same things.

"I know it's not my place," the officer said. "But you've got to give him a little bit of time. If you really love each other, he's going to do the right thing for you both. It'll work out in the end."

Liam nodded, staring out the window closest to him. "What about her? And the band? There's a lot of people we could be hurting."

"The world hurt you, and this beautiful thing came out of it, and you mean to tell me that hurt is entirely bad 100 percent of the time? You and I both know that every cloud has a silver lining. And if you didn't before, you certainly should know. He's that silver lining, right? You love him?"

"Yeah," Liam agreed. "I do."

 

__

 

Unsurprisingly, Liam's transition back into everyday life was not as smooth as he'd anticipated. He began seeing a therapist, Dr. Welsh, who was also seeing all the other lads. Welsh made Liam talk about everything about his experience, and he seemed to be able to tell when Liam left out details. Eventually he admitted that Zayn had already told him that he'd fallen in love with Liam, and even went as far as to note how distressed Zayn seemed to be that Liam was not answering his calls or text messages.

By the time they were preparing to go back to work, their first interviews and concerts since the incident, Liam hadn't been on Twitter in so long-- he'd even deleted the app to stop the temptation. In the past, he would've been the most likely culprit to take to Twitter and calm the fans down in the sort of situation. As far as he knew, none of the lads had posted anything on their Twitters or Instagrams yet either. He wasn't sure what the grace period for that even was. Should he wait until after their first concert to post something?

"Good morning," Welsh smiled, sitting between Louis and Niall in the backstage area. Louis' bruises had almost entirely faded, although there was a cut on his left bicep that might leave a permanent scar. He'd heard talk about covering it with a tattoo once it was healed enough.

"Morning," Liam replied, eyeing the room warily, in search of Zayn. Truthfully, Liam missed him dearly. He was getting less sleep with every passing night, and the ads for Little Mix's music videos popping up when he's just trying to watch videos of cats climbing into boxes and falling off counters... they weren't helping in the slightest. He'd think of Zayn, and that would make his stomach lurch in the good way, but then he'd remember Perrie and it would lurch in the opposite sort of sensation.

Louis cleared his throat. "Zayn's not here yet. Are you two in a fight? He mentioned that you're not responding to his texts."

Liam shrugged, sitting down next to Niall, who was half asleep and playing a game on his phone. He kept dying almost instantly, but he just continued to press retry, as though he was trying to avoid conversation-- which was very unlike Niall. "We're not fighting."

"Seems like you're mad at him."

"Can you drop it, please?" Liam said, trying to sound as tired as possible. Louis backed off immediately, obviously not in the mood for a fight-- again, out of character for him. Liam began to wonder if they'd ever be back to normal. Harry was late for a television appearance prep, which is a sentence Liam thought he'd never say. Harry loved being famous-- he was born for it, with his charming smiles and his adorably bad jokes. Harry was made from the start to be a superstar, and was often even early to this sort of thing, charming the catering people and the crew members.

Zayn being late, though, was not a surprise. He was one of the most laid-back people Liam had ever met, but not in the way Niall was. Niall was the sort of guy you'd trust to babysit your dog, but Zayn was the kind of person you'd trust to watch your house and water your plants-- the difference was so small and yet so drastic in Liam's mind. Two entirely different personalities, and yet both the same at their core. So Niall pleased crowds of people without trying, and Zayn liked to focus hard on making one person happy at a time.

Harry and Zayn entered at the same time, both holding coffees and the sort of smiles that dulled at the eyes but were evident on their mouths. Liam knew how to make Zayn's smile reach his eyes, and he wanted to do it. Welsh reached over Niall's lap to pat Liam's knee, forcing his attention.

"Give him a hug," Welsh advised.

Liam didn't hesitate in following Welsh's advice, although he tried to make the motions seem less frantic, like he hadn't been longing for this, hugging his pillow as a placeholder for a very specific sort of warmth that only Zayn seemed to radiate.

"Missed you," Zayn mumbled into Liam's neck.

Liam breathed in his scent, clutching as tight as possible. "Missed you too. Love you." Liam tried to force it to sound platonic, but he feared that they'd passed the point of no return long ago. Now, without anybody that made him feel guilty around, he could indulge himself in his sappy romantic feelings.

"Love you too," Zayn sighed, as though hearing Liam say it first was lifting a weight from his shoulders. 

"Want to kiss you," Liam said, as softly as he could. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't like there was anybody that couldn't know in the room. In fact, he was fairly sure plenty of people were already keeping this secret for them.

Zayn hummed in response before adding, "Want to kiss you more, I swear."

When they parted, though, they each took a step back instead of pressing their lips together. Zayn took a sip of his coffee to fill the silence as they took seats as far away from each other as possible in the room and waited to have their noses powdered and outfits chosen.

Niall finally fell asleep, head lolling onto Welsh's shoulder, and Louis curled in on himself, stealing numerous sips from both Harry and Zayn's coffees. Welsh mentioned something about the trial coming up, but Liam couldn't focus with Zayn just  _right there._ And why couldn't it just be simple? Why could he just grab Zayn by the collar and kiss him hard on live television? Why couldn't he just ask Zayn what this whole awkward love triangle thing was, and why couldn't he just decide not to have fallen in love at all?

 

Interviews felt weird. In recent history, the only times Liam had been asked any questions were by the police or by Zayn or by Welsh-- this false, conjured up sympathy from this woman whose hair was well ket in the front and matted in the back, whose clothes were only professional from the waist up (where the camera could see) -- felt like he was supposed to pretend. Give false, sugarcoated answers, which he was no longer used to.

She asked them how they were feeling, and there were some mumbled, half-hearted replies in tired voices, so she quickly moved on. She asked about resuming tour, about their families, and touched very lightly on their experiences "in captivity" before she moved on to the average interview questions. 

"Zayn," she began, looking at none of the boys in particular. "When are you and your bird tying the knot then? Have you moved it forward, pushed it back due to recent events?"

Zayn gave a tight-lipped smile. "We're not sure."

Liam felt his heart clench and unclench in a way that left his chest sore. 

"Do you reckon the married life will suit you?" she asked, now looking at Zayn. Zayn shrugged, glancing at Liam once and then twice. "What about the rest of you lot? Anybody looking to pop the question any sooner than they might've before?" She seemed off-put by Zayn's passive response, and Liam was visibly emoting as well. He decided he didn't like interviews anymore.

Louis spat off a bullshit answer about feeling too young, and managed to move the interview along, although it seemed to drag on with one question about girls to the next. If Liam had to think of a new celebrity crush every time he was going to be interviewed from now on, he was going to pull his hair out. 

In fact, the only interesting part of the interview was when Zayn mumbled, "Liam" in response instead of "Perrie" like he used to. Liam scolded him with a look, because it sounded a bit too genuine, and they opted to both throw in weak chuckles, to make it seem like a joke.

Liam knew a lot of the charm of their band was their goofy, high-energy shenanigans, and everyone seemed like they didn't know how to act around these jumpier, quieter boys that wanted nothing more than fattening foods and coffee. 

 

Afterwards, Liam wandered off to get food while the other lads used the toilets and gathered their things. He was more than ready to leave this building and go back to his own flat. His newly empty, comfortable, quiet flat, where nobody touched him like was made of glass, and nobody suggested he have a salad instead of a pizza. Liam was going to order as much damned pizza as he wanted.

When he opened the door to the room they'd all originally been waiting in, Zayn was sitting on the window seat, staring down at his hands and tracing the smaller tattoos towards the base of his wrist.

Zayn looked up when Liam shut the door behind him, and offered a watery smile. "Want to come over? Watch a movie or summat?"

"You're not getting married at all, are you?" Liam asked, studying Zayn, who was now curled in on himself, staring out the window like the he wanted the rain to wash away his problems. Zayn didn't meet his gaze, but shook his head. "Is it because... because we're too different now?"

Zayn shifted a bit, but still refused to look at Liam. "It's because Perrie and I can't work anymore. I look her in the eyes and all I see is... is pity, and worry. But, I look at you, Li, and I can just tell that we're thinking the same thing, and that it's killing you to try and undo everything we did... I can't keep pretending that nothing is wrong."

Liam sat down next to Zayn, careful not to touch him, for fear of sending a shiver down his own spine. "Zee, if you don't want to get married, that's okay. I just want you to be sure--"

"Liam," Zayn said, finally meeting Liam's gaze. His eyes were filled with tears. "I am so scared. I don't think I'm even the same person I was-- I know I'm not. But when I look at you, I feel  _normal_ and happy and safe and  _loved,_ and I don't feel that with anybody else. I just-- I don't see how any of this is going to work out, when nobody ever feels the same as I do."

"Who said I don't feel the same?" Liam asked, itching to take Zayn's hands or wipe away his tears-- there was nothing more sad than getting used to holding back affection, he realized. He'd actually become accustomed to simply wishing he could hold Zayn.

"Please be honest with me," Zayn asked. Liam nodded seriously in reply, fingers scraping against his jeans to keep from moving any closer. "Is this a bad idea?"

Liam breathed on it, let the question ring through his mind. "I don't know how being happy could be bad. But I also  _do_ know that the universe has concocted stranger ideas."

"It's risky," Zayn pointed out, leaning back against Liam's shoulder.

"I don't want you keeping Perrie in the middle of this, no matter what happens between us. If I say I want to try or not, I don't like watching you lead her on."

Zayn nodded. "How do you do that to somebody, though? Tell them you can't be with them anymore because somebody else was there for you when they couldn't have been? It would hurt her too much to tell her the whole truth."

"What's the whole truth?" Liam asked, resting his chin on the light bristle of Zayn's hair, breathing in the cinnamon of his shampoo. 

"Lusting after you for a lot longer than I've even known Perrie," Zayn said. "And if I don't explain that, it seems like I'm blaming her for not having gone through what we went through together. But-- but if I do, then she'll be so hurt. She wasn't... she wasn't a second choice in the way she'll assume she was. I thought there was no way I'd ever-- she was it, Li, she was endgame."

"You were going to marry Perrie because you thought there wasn't any way I could ever feel the same as you?" Liam clarified, feeling guilty and flattered and full of fondness, body heating up with the overflow of emotion.

"When you say it like that... I mean, was I supposed to spend my life alone?" Zayn asked, defensive and pulling away from Liam's touch. 

Instead of responding, Liam grabbed Zayn by the shoulders and tugged their bodies together, noses brushing as Liam studied Zayn's wide, calculating eyes. He shut his own and took a deep breath, waiting for Zayn to close the space between the two of them. His shoulders slumped with the contact of their lips, grips on Zayn's shoulders softening as Zayn's arms slowly encircled his waist and pulled their chests together.

Liam didn't know how to feel, what to think, or what he'd say when this moment was over. They had years more time to think about, going forward. It wasn't just a matter of what they wanted, and Liam knew that. But, he also knew that he loved Zayn. In every way you could love somebody, ranging from thinking of Zayn as his hero and wishing for Zayn to hold him forever-- Liam couldn't think of a single other person he felt every sort of love for. Zayn was his best friend and his favorite person to kiss, and his mum had always explained that those were the things that made somebody the love of your life.

Every kiss with Zayn was dizzying, and took Liam's breath clear out of his lungs in the most spectacular of ways. Zayn's lips tasted like coffee and cigarettes and vaguely the way his stomach tasted when Liam peppered kisses to it in bed. Every time Zayn slid his fingers along Liam's ribs beneath his shirt, it felt like he was promising forevers and I love yous, and maybe Liam was naive for believing in those sorts of things, but with Zayn, it was impossible not to.

 

__

 

Trial day was a rainy day in London. Liam's mum came over to fix his hair and dress him up like they were attending a funeral. Her gazes had gone from pitying to fond again, and her hugs were bone-crushing and long-lasting, much to Liam's relief. 

"Mum?" he asked, watching her concentrated expression as she tied his tie for him. "I know you love me no matter what. And. Um. I'll always be your son and whatever else, and--"

"You're dating Zayn, yes?" Karen interrupted, glancing casually up at him as she tightened it around his neck. She chuckled at the puzzled expression on his face and patted gently on his chest and she stepped away. "Harry's got a big mouth. Said he saw the two of you snogging backstage the other day. Did this happen before the incident?"

Liam shook his head bashfully. "During," he mumbled. "When you're with somebody long enough, true feelings are bound to emerge and whatever. Felt proper guilty about the Perrie situation."

"Well, he's sat her down and they've shaken hands and moved on. My baby's a home-wrecker," Karen giggled, pressing a wet kiss to her son's cheek.

Liam scrunched up his nose and glanced in the mirror before realizing his mum was headed out the door. He scrambled to follow, trying to remember to do all the things Welsh had suggested to mentally prepare himself to see the men that had beaten his friends and handcuffed him daily.

As they shuffled into the car-- escorted by the same officer, who Liam had discovered was named Daniel-- Karen patted her son on the shoulder and said, "Promise me one thing, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," Liam agreed, shutting the door after them.

"Hold his hand for me. In front of all them. Properly give him a good squeeze, too. Don't let them scare you into hiding what you feel. I don't give a damn about PR or marketing numbers. Do this for  _me_ and for him, alright? And do it for yourself. Lord knows you could need some extra comfort today."

Liam smiled, a soft, grateful smile, and pressed a kiss to Karen's hairline. "Promise, mum," he agreed, voice warm and with a sense of finality. He'd been looking for an excuse to break the rules anyway.

 

Liam's first thought was that it smelt of pencil shavings. Pencil shavings, sweat, and a hint of cigarette, but that was because Zayn had probably been smoking just before they entered, and was now standing right next to Liam. In the back of his mind, he knew that he'd be watching and listening a lot more than he'd be talking, but the negative, scary thoughts were taking over, and he figured now would be a good time to take his mother's advice.

Silently, as they were ushered to their seats, Liam reached over and took Zayn's hand. He grasped his fingers tight and rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand, the way they only seemed to be able to do in bed at night. Niall noticed, surely, from where he stood behind them, but if he didn't, he didn't let on. He got a few puzzled and distressed looks from managers, but Zayn stuck up his chin and squeezed tighter, so Liam did the same, bumping their shoulders together as they walked. When they sat, Liam brought Zayn's hands up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss before lowering them onto his left thigh.

Content, Zayn hooked their ankles together, and Liam looked anxiously around to see where the defendants were, but saw nobody he recognized on that side of the room. He'd been assured that he wouldn't be taking the stand today, but that he and his fellow band members should be present for this first half of the trial. 

"It's Jim," Zayn muttered, nodding in the direction of a man in handcuffs being led towards the front. Liam thought bitterly that the man was getting a taste of his own medicine, feeling the phantom pain of the healed bruises on his own wrists. However, this distaste for the man faded very quickly when he remembered the sad, almost sympathetic smiles and the less brutal treatment. Liam didn't know if he was prepared to see these men as  _human beings._ He could hardly handle thinking of Jim as a person, and he hadn't even been that awful towards them. 

"It was a lot worse when I thought of them as something less than people," Liam whispered, eyeing the other men, the nameless men, with families and stories and reasons for having held him captive.

Zayn nodded. "Kill for a smoke."

"I'll come with you," Liam offered. "When they take a recess, we can open a window in the bathroom or something."

Another nod, and Zayn's fingers began to twitch in Liam's light grip as they were told to to rise for the judge. The time seemed to have passed much more quickly than Liam thought in his contemplative state, and he and Zayn did not disconnect their hands to stand up. There was a certain swell of pride of holding tight to his Zayn. Letting everyone know that this was a real thing.

They were seated again, and Liam began to realize that this was nothing like it seemed on SVU, or even his and Zayn's new guilty pleasure show, Drop Dead Diva. For one thing, there was a lot more legal jargon than he'd anticipated, and he found himself lost and confused. It was decidedly less exciting, especially because he already knew the story. Neither lawyer was all that impressive, and by the time they took their first recess, neither of them had even said "ladies and gentleman of the jury," leaving both Zayn and Liam deeply disappointed.

The bathroom didn't pan out, leaving the two of them to smoke just outside the building, where the cameras weren't allowed very close, but that didn't mean they didn't have zoom. Liam knew this to be true, but he was watching Zayn lick his lips and then close them softly around the cigarette, breathing in deep and exhaling slow. He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted the comfort, the tingle on his lips, and he waited until Zayn inhaled and moved the cigarette away before he pressed and open-mouthed kiss to Zayn's slightly parted lips. He breathed in the smoke gently, blowing it slowly out of the hollows on the sides of the kiss, and he felt the warmth of the cigarette through his hair where Zayn was clutching the nape of his neck.

"Love you," Liam rasped when they parted. He was a casual smoker, something he'd picked up from Zayn, and the burn was the sort of thing he'd come to tolerate. His lungs seemed to expand so much that they physically thudded against his rib cage, and Zayn pressed their lips together again, spinning their bodies around so they were pinned against the brick wall. Liam's shoulder blades dug into the stone, and Zayn's free hand cupped his left arse cheek, and it would've been perfect, had they not been in the particular setting they were in.

Zayn pulled his lips away and turned his head to take a drag, but kept Liam pinned against the wall. "Is it completely trashy of us to be snogging right now?" he breathed out with the smoke, lips curling into a smirk.

"Completely," Liam agreed, breathlessly. His heart was pounding, flesh heating up as Zayn's hand slowly move from his bum to his waist, amber eyes falling back onto Liam's features. He had this way of looking at Liam, like he was trying to figure out how this had happened, and he was so  _fond,_ that it actually made Liam blush. _  
_

"Love when you do that," Zayn mumbled, taking one last drag before dropping the cigarette and stomping it out. "Head back in?"

"Thirsty," Liam agreed, nodding. They held hands as they walked in the building, and Liam tried not to think of how much trouble they'd be in when those pictures surfaced.

 

Court was adjourned for the day, and although they'd made plans to go back to Zayn's and watch more Drop Dead Diva after, Liam was ushered into a car separate from Zayn's, and there were no parting hugs for any of the boys. Liam knew exactly what was going on, especially once the driver passed his building. This was an emergency band meeting that somebody high up had called.

For the first time since the incident, Liam signed onto Twitter. "Ziam" and "Zayn and Liam" were the two top trends, and he was conflicted on how to feel. He hadn't read any of the actual tweets yet, not really, but he had a pretty good idea of how they would react. Excitement, disbelief, confusion... and probably a few decidedly less positive responses. He clicked on Ziam first, and, unsurprisingly found mostly pictures of Zayn kissing him against the wall outside. There were other things like,  _Zayn tops!!_ and  _Liam broke up Zerrie!!_ and even,  _Hottest couple over the year._ Other people were critical of the venue choice of their lip-lock, but Liam had anticipated it. That kiss was a bad idea, and he knew it.

After an hour of being scolded, and another half our of listening to people talk about him like he wasn't in the room, Liam was free to go and reminded to not confirm or deny anything to anybody, although he wasn't sure he was going to take their advice. They had no way of stopping him from getting the word out there, if he was really determined. He wasn't sure he was.

"Don't know if you're still in the mood for Drop Dead Diva..." Zayn asked, catching Liam's arm as he was walking out of the doorway. "We could order some take-away and camp out on the sofa."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Liam said. "I don't think... maybe we should spend some time apart. Let it blow over or something? Like, follow their plans instead?"

"Are you breaking up with me?" Zayn joked, punching Liam's arm lightly. They moved awkwardly out of the doorway to let other people through. When Liam looked at the ground instead of responding, Zayn's face fell. "You're kidding, yeah? You're going to let them boss you around forever?"

Liam furrowed his brow. "No... I just think maybe we should keep it private. We have a lot of people to think about. The lads, our families, whatever else."

"I already came out to my folks, if that's what you're worried about. Plus, the lads know, they're not going to try and make us stay in the closet forever. If you're not ready, that's okay," Zayn replied, reaching out to take Liam's hand.

Liam recoiled, taking a few steps back. "I just think we might have to start pulling back in public, and... it's going to be too hard if we take this too far."

"So you want to be fuck buddies or something?" Zayn scoffed, raising his eyebrows. "Because it sounds a lot like you're trying not to get emotionally attached to me, but I'd say we've already crossed that bridge."

"We should just spend a bit apart," Liam said. Zayn shut his eyes and took a deep breath, but gave a curt nod and walked away. Liam felt his lunch coming back up as he watched Zayn wait for the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently and ignoring everyone as they tried to comfort him.

Liam was beginning to think he wasn't very good at this; how was he supposed to make this work if his priorities kept changing? How is a person supposed to choose between his own happiness and the happiness of thousands of other people? He'd already hurt Perrie enough, and a few assorted extended family members were probably less than thrilled with the idea of Liam and Zayn being together-- how was Liam supposed to deal with being the reason thousands of girls boycott their concerts and his entire band and all their crew get backlash?

 

At two in the morning, Liam decided it was worth it. He'd been tossing and turning for hours trying to get the slightest bit of sleep. He'd even tried to watch an episode of Drop Dead Diva, but he couldn't make it past the opening credits without Zayn there to mouth along to the intro. He had Daniel escort him to Zayn's flat. The car ride was silent, achingly so, and he could feel the aura of I Told You So that Daniel seemed to be radiating.

Liam knocked softly on Zayn's door, his hair damp with the rain, but he smelt like the outside world, which had now come to be his favourite scent. 

Zayn came to the door in a pair of boxers that sat low on his hips, hair feathering over his forehead and eyes. "Hi," he said simply. "Thought you said--"

"Forget what I said," Liam replied, waving dismissively, as though it was enough explanation. He breezed past Zayn into the flat, tugging off his coat in one swift motion.

"Okay," Zayn agreed, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Why are you here?"

"I'm an idiot," Liam responded, earning a startled look from Zayn, who opened his mouth to protest. "I've been really unfair to you," Liam continued, "I've been changing my mind left and right, I guess, but really, all along I've been struggling with the same thing, and I guess sometimes I could push it away and think in the moment. Because it felt good to be with you, it's always felt good. Probably because even when we weren't like, fucking, we were still best friends, and I don't want to lose anything that we have, but more than anything I can't lose my best friend, Zee."

Zayn took a step back, tired eyes flitting around Liam's face. "So you want to be friends."

Liam took in Zayn's appearance properly. Red nose and cheeks, puffy eyes, band-aid on his right thumb. "You've been crying." Zayn looked away, embarrassed. "Me too," Liam admitted, leaning closer to catch Zayn's gaze. 

"Thought you decided we were going to stop doing this," Zayn mumbled, crossing his arms over his stomach, not defensively, but awkwardly.

Liam nodded. "I think that was a really bad idea, because I can't sleep without you, and I can't look anybody in the eye without holding your hand, and I can't write any lyrics apart from ones about you, Zee. That's so cheesy, I know, but it's true, and I hate us pretending that we didn't fall in love. Like, I was scared of ruining everybody else's life... I forgot to think about how not being with you was going to ruin my own."

Zayn blinked at Liam, but didn't bother with any further words. He simply uncrossed his arms, took a few steps forward and connected their lips. Liam felt like an entire layer of his skin just melted away, fingers automatically reaching to tangle up with Zayn's.

For a climactic kiss, it was really very tame, soft and slow. Liam allowed his posture to sink into Zayn's, shoulders slumping with pleasure. Zayn pulled away just long enough to ask, "You love me?"

"I love you," Liam confirmed. "And I'm sorry for tugging you along on this stupid... I don't know, yes-no rollercoaster, but you know that I was scared, Zee, and I felt guilty for influencing other people's lives without their permission, but I'm just-- I'm not scared anymore. I'm not scared when I'm with you."

"I love you too," Zayn replied, eyes so gentle and fond. "I know that this is going to be really hard. Like, we're not living in a fairy tale, where once the right people get together everything is just peachy, okay? We have a lot of other people to think about, Li, you said so yourself."

"I know," Liam agreed, "but maybe it's time we think about ourselves first."

 

_FIN_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it. I know, it's really short! But I might write a few timestamps, and there is so much more ziam in general that I'm planning on writing. So, if people want more of the Stockholm universe, I'll be happy to do timestamps upon request.   
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading, hopefully it wasn't too boring or lame or whatever else!


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